


You Worry Me Often (Bodyguard AU)

by jaybird_elliott2020



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Jason Todd, Angry Kissing, Anxious Tim Drake, Bodyguard, Bottom Tim Drake, Dark Past, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, PTSD, Possessive Jason Todd, Protective Jason Todd, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Top Jason Todd, Trans Tim Drake, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybird_elliott2020/pseuds/jaybird_elliott2020
Summary: Jason Todd is hired to protect the second youngest son of crime lord Bruce Wayne. However, said son likes to slip his guard as often as humanly possible and put himself in all sorts of danger all the time. Jason really likes his job and though he's hesitant to admit it, he really likes Tim.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	1. Jason Might Hate His Job Less if Tim Wayne Wasn't Suicidal

Bruce Wayne was a notorious crime lord who lived at the edge of Gotham. He ran everything from prostitution and drug deals to black market weaponry and underground transplants from less than willing participants. He spent his days at his manor with paperwork and anyone stupid enough to go into business for themselves in the city. He had five children and a goddaughter who lived with him and he cared for with his entire heart. Despite what those who were his foot soldiers said, Bruce Wayne did, in fact have a heart. 

He care particularly for his second youngest, Tim. 

Tim was a small 19-year-old with long dark curls and a slim frame. He was anorexic and sickly most days of the week which lead Bruce to take special interest in his safety. When he was young he was in karate and taekwondo and spent every afternoon after school in the training room in the manor sparring with boyguards until Bruce was satisfied he was capable enough to wander the estate on his own. Tim hated it and used any opportunity available to slip his guard and sneak off with his sister or friends from his private boarding school that lived in Downtown Gotham. 

That was all fine and dandy when The Wayne Family was the most powerful family in the greater Gotham area. These days, a new family was rising in the shipyards of Gotham and making it’s way by force through Downtown Gotham. These days, Bruce Wayne needed to ensure the protection of his entire family and keep his business running. 

Jason was hired around Christmas time and assigned to Bruce Wayne’s youngest son, Damien, andTim. Pretty quickly, Bruce realized Damien would need his own protection and most definitely did NOT like Jason. So since New Years, Jason only ever had to deal with Tim’s escape acts and Jason kind of liked it that way, it kept him on his toes and he liked having things to do. But this particular afternoon, he wasn’t having any of Tim shit. 

“Ok kid, very funny,” he called out into the empty hallway. “This is a great little game you’re playing but this is me giving up! You can come out now.”

Bruce came out of his office with a fixed eyebrow and glare that could have cut Jason in half. Jason stood at attention. It was the one habit he never broke after discharge. 

“Jason,” Bruce said. “Did you loose my son?”

“Of course not sir,” Jason said. “He just … doesn’t seem to be where I left him.”

Bruce pushed his glasses off his nose so he could pinch the bridge. 

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that and you’re going to have Tim at dinner by six sharp or you’ll have a lot more to worry about losing than just your job. Are we clear?” 

“Crystal.”

“Good,” Bruce said, patting Jason on the shoulder. 

After Bruce vanished into his office, Jason pulled out his cell phone and dialed the oldest Wayne. 

“Dick! Is Tim with you?” Jason pleaded. 

“No, why? Did you lose him again?” Dick asked.

“Whaaaat? No! Of course not! I’ve been watching him like a hawk. He’s … right here! ‘Kaygottagobye!”

He hung up quicker than he dialed. 

A few worried text messages from Dick later, Jason was convinced he knew where Tim had run off to. 

Tonight was Tim’s best friend’s 21st birthday and Bruce forbid him from going because it was in a territory controlled by the Joker Cartel. Also, Jason had refused to disobey Bruce again. After the last time, Jason was pretty sure Bruce was looking for any reason to fire him.

Jason showed up at the Laugh Shack a few minutes after running three red lights in a row going 80 on his bike. He was less worried about Tim getting hurt and more worried about losing the only job he ever like since he left the army. Well, technically he deserted and was dishonorably discharged (thanks Uncle Petey, otherwise he would be in a military prison and wondering a time he didn’t have scurvy or HIV). Anyway, he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t. 

Tim was dancing with Conner. Conner had his hands on Tim’s hips and they were grinding to a techno song with no lyrics. Megan was getting drinks and chatting up a guy at the corner of the bar who was staring at Tim. Garfield kept vanishing and reappearing with a different girl or guy every couple minutes and after the first five or six times, Tim stopped keeping track. 

They were all having a good time. Kal was even drinking a beer. Just one though. He was supposed to be driving home between three hours ago when they got there and whenever Gar decided he was bored or ready to stop dancing. 

That is until, Tim caught sight of Jason bobbing through the crowd, heard him screaming his name. 

“Fuck,” Tim muttered, pushing Conner off of him. “I love you, man, but I gotta go. Happy birthday!”

Conner waved with a smile and Tim took off. 

Gotham alleys were all dark and cold and dripping wet form the rain or laundry lines hanging between buildings. Tonight the mist of spring sunk right into Tim’s shirt and he walked through a lot of puddles on his way back to the main road. It was a full moon tonight, so it should have been brighter than it was but the clouds muffled the affects of the light. And the streetlight closest to the Laugh Shack was burned out. Tim could hear Bruce’s voice in his head telling him how dangerous it was for someone of his size and stature to be walking unaccompanied through a dark alley. The lack of Jason’s presence and a bit of self-preservation had Tim the slightest bit on edge. 

Even more so when arms were sweeping his feet off the ground and pushing him against the wall in the alley. He was shaking, his cheek squashed into the rough brick and toes barely on the ground. Whoever had him was gripping him by the hips and pressing their entire body weight into him to hold him off the pavement. They wanted complete and total control. 

Lips brushed over his ear lobe and Tim shivered. 

“You looked too delicious to pass up babe, I’m sorry,” Jason said with a chuckle. 

He let Tim down to his feet again and Tim immediately turn to face him and hit his as hard as he could on the shoulder. 

“You ASS!” Tim bellowed, storming off. 

He got as far as the sidewalk before Jason was grabbing him again and pulling him against the wall. This time, Tim was facing Jason and Jason kept his hands just ghosting over Tim’s skin like a gentleman. 

“Aw, c’mon sweetums, don’t be like that. No one likes a sour puss,” Jason said, pouting his lip to enunciate his point. 

“Shut up Jason, I’m not in the mood for your jokes,” Tim sneered and pushed out of Jason’s hold. He got away successfully this time because there wasn’t another between that alley and his car. 

When he got into the driver seat, Jason was opening the driver side door and pulling him out of the car. 

“Most definitely not,” Jason said. 

“I’m not drunk,” Tim protested, trying to get back in the car. 

“How many appletinis did you have princess?” Jason asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked when Tim rolled his eyes and didn’t answer the question. “That’s what I thought. You aren’t driving.”

“Jason,” Tim whined, stomping his foot on the ground like a toddler. He was more trying to see if annoying the shit out of Jason would work, but it was wishful thinking anyway. 

“Tim,” Jason mocked and mirrored the stomp of his foot. “C’mon I’ll take you home on my bike and send someone over to pick up your car. My treat. As long as you don’t tell your dad that I lost you for a whole hour.”

“It’s been three hours since I slipped you,” Tim corrected. 

“Well I … shut up and get on the bike.”

Jason slept on the third floor in a small room a few doors down from Tim. He didn’t have a night shift with Tim most days but still stayed close by in case anything came up. Besides, the night guy was good at what he did and there was enough security at Wayne Manor to keep out the US military for at least three months. 

He really didn’t mind taking some time off every now and then (especially at night). 

But that night, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He would close his eyes and all he would see was Tim hurt or missing or … Anyway, Jason didn’t fall asleep even though he had been on the clock for 48 hours with only a few power naps when Tim took them. He decided to relieve the night guy and post up outside Tim’s door, just to prove to himself Tim was ok and easy his nerve a little bit. 

He struck a match when he sat in the chair and lit a cigarette from the pack he hid in his inner jacket pocket. Tim and him had a heart-to-heart a few months ago about Jason’s smoking and Jason promised he would try harder to quit. It was one of the rare moments that he and Tim actually got along. He kind of felt back lighting up outside the kid’s door. Just because he didn’t like to break promises. Even if they were to spoiled, nerdy, adorable little rich boys like Tim. 

He only smoked one before he heard a loud scream unravel from Tim’s bedroom. Jason was up in a second and by Tim’s bedside, weapon drawn. First he checked the room, under the bed in the closet and the windows. Then he realized Tim was still asleep. He was just having a nightmare. He was crying out in his sleep and whimpering and tossing and turning. Jason sighed and started for the door. 

“No,” Tim muttered. “Please! Please I’ll be … good! I promise! Don’t!” 

Tim’s hands were clutching the bedsheets so hard Jason could see how white his knuckles were in just the dim moonlight shining on him. 

He doesn’t know why he did it but Jason was by Tim’s bedside. He pulled the desk chair over and sat down. His original plan was to just sit and make sur nothing happened, but he found himself reaching out and gently placing his hand on Tim’s. 

That was a mistake because as soon as he did that, Tim was shooting up in bed and screaming so loud his voice broke. Jason jumped and tried to shush him. He was reaching across the bed towards Tim’s arm when Cass, Bruce’s oldest daughter, ran in panting faster than Jason had initially. 

“STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!” Tim wailed. “NO!”

“Out! Get out!” Cass said as loud as Cass could be. 

Jason scrambled back and rushed out the door, closing it behind him and parking himself back in his chair. 

He had absolutely no idea what was going on. To be honest, that scared him more than losing Tim while he was on duty and he was starting to think there was more to whatever they had that client and bodyguard. 

This was bad. Oh so very bad.


	2. We Aren’t Talking About Anything, No Sir We Are Not

Cass cradled Tim’s head in her lap. She was thankful no one but her and Tim’s bodyguard woke up. Usually when these things happened, Tim got overwhelmed with all the people who look at him like he’d break in the days after. Especially since he just got them to stop looking at him like he was still the little thing in floral dresses picking daisies with his sisters while their brother chatted up potential blackmail targets.

Also, Tim was private about very few things and when he was he kept them close to his chest where no one could _ever_ see them. Cass barely had the full story of Tim’s past and she was the only one he came to when it got bad enough for him he threatened to kill himself. Not even in a blatantly joking manner. Often when he used that tone, the family worried more than usual. The last time it had been that bad though was Christmas before last when Elliott, the ex-boyfriend, came around.

She wanted to ask what was bothering him, but Tim didn’t even let her get the words out.

“Don’t ask about it please,” he sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

Cass nodded and just stroked her fingers through Tim’s hair.

“Hair too long,” Cass declared, pulling on the ends of Tim’s curls.

“Hey! I know and _ow_. Stop pulling!” Tim whined, laughing a little bit.

“Then cut,” she chuckled back. “I cut.”

“No Cass. I kinda like it long,” he said, following Cass’s fingers down his neck.

“Feel safe or feel good?” she asked.

“… I don’t know,” Tim answered. Anyone else would have ended up in this conversation.

“ _Do you like long hair because it makes you feel safe or because it makes you feel good about yourself_.”

“ _Oh, please, like_ I _need another boost to my ego.”_

With Cass, he answered honestly.

“It just feels right.”

Cass nodded.

“Can you stay till I fall asleep?”

“Anything.”

Jason spent the night bouncing his knee up and down with so much fervor he probably woke up the poor sols in the rooms below him. At 2 AM, Cass came out of the bedroom and closed the door softly behind her.

“He ok now?” he asked.

“Little,” Cass replied.

“What the heck was that? I mean I’ve been here for like sixth months and he’s never done anything like _that_ before.”

“Bad past. Very bad past.”

“Oh yeah, that’s really helpful.”

Cass sighed and rolled her eyes. “Stupid boy.”

“Excuse me?”

“Stupid. You ask him. Not mine.”

Cass huffed and walked back to her bedroom. Jason stared at Tim’s door for the rest of the night.

Tim woke up at 10. He came out of his bedroom dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and dress shoes. He looked the same as he did everyday: dark circles under his eyes, contacts already in, a little disheveled, and almost entirely defeated.

“Jason,” Tim said, a chipper tone on perfect display. Definitely overcompensating.

“Morning,” Jason said.

They walked to the kitchen together and each had a few cups of coffee.

“I could make breakfast?” Jason suggested when the silence became unbearable.

“Jason,” Tim warned. “Don’t.”

“I was just offering to make breakfast. You eat like an absolute toddler and it’s _my_ responsibility to make sure you don’t die.”

Tim huffed and turned to where Jason was standing by the counter. He rubbed his hands together with a slew of unease before locking eyes with Jason.

“Ok, listen to me,” Tim said. “We are going to forget about last night. Forever. And ever and ever and ever and _ever_. Got it? We’re gonna move on and spend the day doing the most montonious tasks in the world before I slip you again between dinner and when I go to bed. Nothing has change. Now say you understand.”

“I understand,” Jason mumbled.

He held back the part where he asked if Tim was ok. He figured that might be a one-way ticket to getting his ass kicked. (Sometimes he wondered why Tim needed a bodyguard in the first place.

Sure enough, Tim slipped Jason again soon after dinner and Jason was left running around the manor looking for him.

While doing so, he ran into Dick who was lingering in the hallway where his bedroom used to be.

“Hey,” he said. “Lose my little brother again?”

“It’s like he wants me to get fired,” Jason hissed, marching to the linen closet and throwing it open. “Damnit!”

“Have you checked the crawl space?” Dick offered, leaning into the frame of the door Jason has thrown open. s

“What?”

“Y’know, the crawl spaces. When we were kids, Tim used to go there whenever he wanted to be alone. He was the only one who could fit.”

“Oh, oh right. Yeah, I’ll check there. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Dick said. He waved smally as Jason took off down the hall.

There were five crawl spaces in the house. One in the library, one in the upstairs living room, one in the home theatre, one in Damian’s room, and one in Bruce’s room.

So far, he’d gone to all of them but Bruce’s.

It took him a moment and some heavy breathing to open Bruce’s door. Thankfully, he seemed to be elsewhere.

The crawl space was by a large mahogany chest that looked out of place with the rest of the more modern décor of the room. Jason lifted the grate off the crawl space and crouched down in front of it.

Tim was pushed into the back wall, his legs tucked under him and head lolling into his shoulder. It looked uncomfortable, but Tim had managed to fall asleep. Jason sighed and shimmied his upper torso in enough to tap on Tim’s foot.

“Hey,” he said. “Hey Tim, wake up.”

Tim stayed still but let out a small noise of protest.

Jason would have felt bad if he kept trying to wake him up, but he also knew he should get Tim out of there and into his own bed or he’d have to hear Tim bitch about it for days.

So Jason grabbed Tim by the ankle to pull him close enough to cradle him princess-style in his arms. He carried Tim out of Bruce’s room and back to his own, all while keeping Tim sound asleep.

“Damn, you’re a crazy sound-sleeper there kid,” Jason said to himself. “And a lot heavier than you look.”

“That’s ‘cuz I’m sleeping dumbass,” Tim mumbled into Jason’s shoulder.

The sudden speech made Jason catch his breath a little. He laughed a little when he got over his surprise.

“Doesn’t sound like your sleeping there princess,” Jason said.

“Shut up,” Tim growled, half-heartedly slapping Jason’s chest.

Jason placed Tim softly into his bed and started for the door where he would post up for the night and hope Tim stayed asleep at least until three AM.

“Jason,” Tim mumbled before Jason could leave.

“Yeah?”

“Could you sit with me for a little while?”

“Uh, I’ll just be outside. That cool?”

Tim’s eyebrows knit up a little but he quickly corrected his expression and nodded.

“Sure.”

Jason left the room and fell into his chair.

_You idiot._


	3. Maybe We Need To Talk About This, Yes Sir We Might Need to Talk About This

Tim had that nightmare again.

The one that begins with him getting trapped in the garden in the winter. He’s calling out for his sisters and for Dick. It always happens before Dami is born. It’s like a twisted memory that wants to kill him.

There’s a man in the far end of the garden that marks the beginning of the maze of shrubbery his brother and sisters and him play in when the air doesn’t bite as hard as it is right now. In the distance he can hear Dick and Steph and Cass laughing and playing with each other like Tim wasn’t gone, so he wanders closer to the man in the garden.

He’s only a blur. He’s tall. He doesn’t have a face Tim can remember. He is dark with no defined outline of body. He could be slender or overweight and Tim would never know.

But Tim takes his hand anyway.

He always wakes up before anything happens, but his brain can fill in the rest and that kind of hurts worse.

He isn’t screaming though, which means no one comes running from their rooms to hold him and smooth his hair down because no one knows he’s had the night mare again.

He’s been having them a lot longer than he’s let on.

Since Jason started working with them. There was something about the way Jason looked at him that put Tim on edge and reminded him of the man in the garden from his dreams. It was like Jason wasn’t actually there. Like he wasn’t even real.

He was though because everyone else could see and hear him too, but Tim doubted himself so much he didn’t trust his own senses not to lie to him.

He didn’t like to be alone after he had a nightmare and often if he was he would just keep having them. So he had a choice to make: he could find someone in the manor who was awake or he could not go to sleep.

God, he hadn’t gotten a full nights sleep before last night and he was so tired. He was so tired of not sleeping and being afraid of his own mind that he decided to leave and wander around.

What he forgot: Jason never really left.

Jason was nodding off when Tim startled him awake with the creek of his bedroom door.

“I’m up!” he grunted, jolting upright.

“Do you ever sleep?” Tim asked.

“When I can,” Jason replied, scratching his nose.

Tim didn’t _have_ to wander the manor. Jason was right there. He would come in right? Maybe if Tim told him the truth about what was going on? Maybe then Tim could get some sleep. And Jason too. It would be a win-win.

“Do you …” Tim began but trailed off.

“Do I?” Jason mocked, prompting Tim with a hand to finish his sentence.

“Never mind. I don’t want to talk to you if you’re just gonna be an asshole,” Tim shot and turned around and slammed his door.

Jason scolded himself and stood up. He knocked on the door.

“Tim?” Jason said. “Tim, hey I’m sorry. What did you want to ask me?”

“Go away,” Tim hissed.

“Tim. I’m sorry. Please. Let me in?”

There was a long pause between Jason’s question and the door opening, but Jason’s heart leaped at the fact Tim seemed to be willing enough to at least open the door.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole,” he said.

“I know,” Tim said. “Come in.”

Jason followed Tim into his room and watched him climb back underneath the covers of his entirely too large and too comfortable looking bed. He didn’t join. He stood at attention at the foot of the bed until Tim patted the spot next to him.

“C’mon asshole,” Tim said.

Jason lowered himself to the bed, sitting on the edge so one of his feet was still touching the floor.

“C’mon Jason, I’m not gonna hurt you. Just relax. Lay down,” Tim said.

Again, Jason hesitantly leaned back into the headboard of Tim’s bed and kicked his shoes off before propping his feet up on the bunched-up sheets at the end of the bed.

Tim knew that was the best he would get.

“I was gonna ask …” Tim started but trailed off again.

“You were gonna ask?” Jason asked, this time lilting his voice to encourage Tim to finish.

Tim smiled. “I was gonna ask if you have nightmares.”

Jason paused for a moment. He was going to lie, but he thought better of it.

“I have them all the time.”

“Do they … do they ever … hurt so bad you don’t think you’ll survive them?”

“More often than not.”

“How … how do you survive?”

Jason wanted to answer him. But he couldn’t.

“Tim,” he said, turning to reach his hand out. He put it back in his lap quickly. “Are you okay? Like for real. A hundred percent honestly right now. You need to tell me: are you okay?”

Tim’s bottom lip quivered and he shook his head.

“Not at all.”


	4. I Guess We All Have Ghosts Because We All Have Pasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **TW** mentions of childhood trauma, molestation, suicidal thoughts, eating disorder, and dysphoria

Ten years ago, Tim wasn’t Tim.

He was the youngest daughter of the Wayne family and they even called him by a different name. Bruce doted on him more than any of his other children, more than even Damian who was an infant. He was the perfect child, the perfect daughter. And all of his siblings doted on him as well. They loved their littlest sister with all their hearts and wanted nothing more for him than to be happy.

Dick would drive him to ballet.

Cass would build blanket forts with him and they would pretend to be dragon warrior princesses and kill all the knights in the kingdom who wanted to hurt them.

Steph would practice with him and give him all the pointers on how to do a perfect pirouette and impress the hell out of Bruce at the next dance recital.

And there was also the man in the garden who doted on him as well.

Tim enjoyed playing by himself, especially since he was the youngest and his older brother and sisters often had bigger more important things to do than he did. He enjoyed playing with them, but also took comfort in playing his own games. He liked best to play in the garden and pretend he was on a long journey from a far off land and was discovering flowers for the first time, writing about them in his notebook (very scientifically).

Around the time he was ten, the gardener took interest in him. They would walk the yard together and he would teach Tim all about flowers and the shrubs and the trees and anything else Tim wanted to learn about.

But he also played games with Tim that he said were secret. Games that made Tim uncomfortable and quiet. Games that gave him nightmares and made him hurt all over.

Bruce found out about it when Tim was eleven and no one ever saw the gardener again.

No one talked about it either.

Then Tim grew up. He became more comfortable in his gender identity and came out to the family with little to no hiccups. Bruce took him shopping for his first tux, Dick took him for a haircut, Cass and Steph gave him a binder for his birthday two years in a row. They all made sure that Tim knew he was loved. They talked at length about what he wanted out of his transition and Bruce footed the bills for anything and everything Tim wanted.

In a matter of months, Tim was one at the top of the waitlist for the best gender therapist in the city and on testosterone before he graduated high school. Between his high school graduation and first year of college, he got top surgery on the west coast.

He was so showered with loved by his family that he forgot about the man in the garden for a little while. Then he started to wonder if that was what they wanted. They wanted him to forget so no one would talk about how a member of the Wayne family, such a beloved and prominent one, was taken advantage of without a soul noticing.

Tim rationalized it for a while. He convinced himself that only Bruce and Dick knew. He convinced himself Bruce felt inadequate as a father because he hadn’t noticed and Dick felt like a shit brother for needing to walk into the middle of a “game” to notice. These were probably true, but Tim couldn’t help but doubt they loved him. Doubt they weren’t just sweeping his own inadequacy under the rug.

He withdrew for a while. Didn’t come home for Christmas his freshman year of high school.

Cass had to fly out to see him to make sure he was still alive since he wasn’t even answering his phone calls.

“What are you doing here?” Tim asked when he opened his dorm door.

“Not answering calls,” Cass hissed, jabbing a finger into Tim’s chest.

“Yeah well that doesn’t mean I want you showing up at my school and checking on me,” Tim retorted as Cass let herself in.

“Dirty,” she stated.

“Hey, did you come here for something or did you just want to criticize my living space?”

“Reason. Alfred.”

Alfred was Bruce’s butler and all the children had a very close relationship with. He was practically a father to Bruce during his childhood and a grandfather to Bruce’s children during theirs.

“I’m not coming home,” Tim protested.

Cass started packing his bag.

“Cass, stop!”

Cass jumped a little and turned to Tim.

“Ungrateful. Dad needs you.”

“ _Dad_ can fucking wait. I’m not going home.”

“Tim,” Cass warned.

“Cassandra, leave!”

“No.” She sat on Tim’s bed and folded her arms to show Tim’ she was serious. “Apologize.”

Tim groaned. “I’m sorry I yelled. Now will you please leave! I’m not going home. I _can’t_ go home Cass. I just … it’s too much.”

Cass unfolded her arms.

“Nightmares? Again?” she asked, reaching out to touch underneath Tim’s eyes. Tim flinched away.

“More. Every night. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t stop thinking.”

“Home. You need home.”

“I can’t Cassie.”

“Cared for. Dad. Dick. Steph. _Me_.”

“No, no! I can’t. They can’t know. I don’t want to have to move back home. Dad’ll make me move back home I just know he will.”

“No. Not me.”

“What?”

“Won’t let him.”

“You can’t promise that Cass.”

“He takes good care. He listens.”

“He doesn’t! Not when I need him to listen!”

Tim growled and pulled on his hair, which was longer than when Cass last saw him at Thanksgiving. Significantly longer. And messy. Like he hadn’t been taking care of himself.

“I need his help,” he said, dropping to the floor and crumpling into his own body weight.

Cass noticed how thin he had gotten as well. His wrists were small enough to fit into her hand. His shirt was too big for him when six months ago it fit just right. And nobody noticed. Not even at Thanksgiving when he passed on Alfred’s sweet potatoes which he usually wolf down in half the time it took everyone else to butter their bread so he was first to get seconds. He was so different than Cass remembered him being. He was so broken.

Cass slid next to him on the floor. She wrapped her arms around him and rocked him like she used to when he was little and had nightmares about monsters in his closet while Bruce was on business trips.

He grabbed onto her instantly too. Just like he had back then. Held her tighter than she held him. And he cried. And they didn’t say anything about it. Not then and not later when they flew home just in time to see Damian opening a Nerf gun he’d been asking for all year.

Tim did eventually tell Bruce he was having a hard time being away from home, but not why. Bruce didn’t pry either. He was happy to have his son back under his roof where he was cared for.


	5. If I, Jason Todd, Declare My Love For You, Will You Still Love Me Too?

Jason listened to Tim for about an hour. He listened to him talk about the garden man and the subsequent nightmares. Of course, he left out the part about his gender. He wasn’t quite ready to be that vulnerable with Jason yet. He just needed to talk about his nightmares.

“Don’t tell anyone okay?” Tim asked, sleepy and rubbing his head into his pillow. Jason couldn’t fight the urge and reached out to brush Tim’s hair out of his eyes.

“Okay.”

Days passed and then weeks. Jason and Tim fell into a comfortable pattern of falling asleep in Tim’s bed together, just to get some shut eye. Often Jason would wait for Tim to fall asleep and then watch him from Tim’s desk chair. It felt somewhat less creepy this way. Less domestic.

Tim had nightmares still but he had Jason there to wake him before they got too bad. He had Jason to recount them to. He had Jason to hug him if he started crying again. He just had Jason there for him.

Then, months after they were comfortable with each other, something changed.

“I need you to accompany Tim to a gala this evening. Can you do that Jason?” Bruce asked.

“Uh, of course sir,” Jason said. “But, um, can I ask: why _me_?”

“Well it seems my son had taken quite a liking to you and I need someone to keep him out of trouble tonight, so who better than you. Why do you have plans?”

“No sir, of course not sir. I’m totally free.”

“Good. Pick him up tonight at six.”

Jason nodded and took his leave.

_Ohmygodohmygodohmygod._

He turned a corner, biting his nails.

_Did I just agree to take Tim on a date? Oh god. I did. What the hell is wrong with me?!_

He kept walking and took a deep breath before trying to rationalize the situation.

_Don’t freak out there Todd. It’s no big deal. You’ve taken charges to dances before. Well technically they were accompanied by their fiancés or boyfriends or girlfriends and you kinda hung back watched. This is very different than that. You are_ taking _him to a dance. You are escorting him into a function with hundreds of rich people and that seems like a lot more than the job. That sounds like a_ date.

He ran right into Tim coming out of the bathroom. They toppled to the floor and Jason landed on top of Tim.

“Whoa there tiger, at least buy me a drink,” Tim teased.

Jason scrambled to his feet, blushing. He held a hand out and helped Tim to his feet before taking off down the hall.

“Cool! I guess I’ll just see you later then!” Tim called out after him.

Tim couldn’t stop thinking about Jason running away from him earlier. He thought they had gotten past the awkward part of their relationship where all they do is argue about Tim slipping detail.

“Tim!” Bruce called out as Tim passed his office. “Come here for a minute I want to talk to you.”

Tim’s stomach dropped but he smiled.

“Sure thing Pops,” Tim said entering the room.

“Shut the door,” he ordered.

Tim’s stomach tightened and he thought he might throw up, but he shut the door.

“Sit down,” he said.

Tim sat down and was glad for it because he was really close to hyperventilating himself into fainting.

“What, uh, what’s going on Dad?” Tim asked.

“About tonight’s gala,” Bruce began. Tim’s stomach immediately loosened and so did the rest of his body that was strung up in anticipation. “Jason is going to be accompanying you.”

“Wha—why?!” Tim yelped.

“Because I said so,” Bruce retorted. “He’s already agreed.”

“What?! That’s not how this works! You don’t just get to pair me up with my bodyguard to go to fucking dance! You didn’t even _ask_ me!”

Bruce stopped what he was doing and glared up at Tim over his glasses.

“I don’t _have_ to ask you,” he retorted. “You are my son. You do as _I_ say. No arguments. If I tell you Jason is accompanying you to a gala, Jason is accompanying you to gala. You aren’t the only one either. Damian is being accompanied by Clark’s son, Jon, and your sisters are each being accompanied by their guards. You are not special. This is for your protection. I’m not taking arguments about it.”

Tim flattered and set his jaw to stop the welling of tears in his eyes.

“Son,” Bruce said, “I value your opinion, but this is not a topic I’m willing to debate. There are too many of Joker’s men out there that could have you kidnapped or killed and I _will not_ have that happening. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” Tim replied, his voice soft and almost inaudible.

“Ok. You may leave now.”

Tim left Bruce’s office and went immediately to his room.

Jason found Tim at 6:35 holed up in his room in his pajamas.

“Hey, what’s up? I thought we were going to that gala tonight?”

“You can go, I’m staying here,” Tim said.

“Hey,” Jason said, reaching out and turning Tim’s face to him. “What’s up with you?”

Tim jerked his head away from Jason and turned his back on him.

“Go away Jason.”

“But—”  
  


“I SAID GO!”

And so Jason left, rather confused about where he and Tim stood at the moment and what had him so upset.

He took the flowers from the fridge and tossed them in the compost bin by the door. He figured he wouldn’t be needing them anyway. Besides, he wasn’t one for the cheesy declarations.


	6. I, Tim Wayne, Will Be Ok ... Eventually.

After the gala incident, Tim became even more withdrawn from his family and Jason. Especially Jason. He wouldn’t leave his room or let anyone besides Cass in. No one could talk to him (both of his own declaration and Bruce’s). Jason had resigned himself to the reality that Tim didn’t like him. Which was fine with Jason. He was here to do a job. That was it.

But one night, Jason was falling asleep in his bedroom when he heard the door creak open and soft footsteps approach his bed. He gripped the gun under his pillow and waited for the figure to get close to him before shooting upright and pointing his weapon.

“Who are you and what the everloving fuck are you doing in my room?” he growled, switching the safety off.

The figure had its hands up.

“It’s just me, Jason,” Tim’s voice came.

“Oh, sorry kid. Force of habit I guess,” he grumbled and put the gun on his nightstand before turning the lamp on.

Once he did, he saw something he hadn’t really expected. He saw Tim. No carefully ironed shirts and slacks, no soft pajama top with symmetrical buttons, no flannel pajama pants with the drawstring tied in a bow. It was Tim with his shoulders caving in, like they had been trained not to do this for years and finally broke the rules. It was Tim’s face bare, with nothing but his glasses, ill-fitted and falling down his nose. It was Tim in an old t-shirt that probably didn’t belong to him and boxers and Snoopy slippers and looking like he was comfortable but trying too hard to be. Entirely broken and relying on childish ideas of comfort to remedy it. And for some reason that broke Jason’s heart into millions of pieces.

He didn’t say a word, just pulled back his comforter and moved closer to the wall. Tim let himself crack a half smile and fall in next to Jason. They settled in, looking at each other. Jason closed his eyes, trying to encourage Tim to do the same but he could feel the young man’s eyes still staring into him.

“Close your eyes, Tim,” Jason said.

“I like looking at you,” he replied.

Jason opened his eyes again and stared at Tim, trying his best not to look shocked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tim said anyway.

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t watch me when I sleep too. Like you don’t know the exact face I make right before I wake up from a nightmare. You’ve been sleeping in my bed with me every night for the past month and every single time, you’re doing exactly what I need you to do.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“Existing.”

Jason’s heart leapt into his throat.

“You can fool everyone else in the world, Jason Todd, but you can’t fool me. I know you care for me.”

“Of course I care. It’s my job.”

Tim shook his head. “You don’t care. You care _for_ me.”

“Maybe. Can we go to sleep?”

“Kiss me?” Tim asked.

Jason didn’t say anything. He closed the gap between them and crashed his lips against Tim’s. He held Tim’s head gingerly and smoothed his hair down. And Tim’s hands wandered up his back, under his shirt. Tim was brave with his touches, dragging his fingers along any piece of skin he could reach. Jason loved that. Jason loved that so much he could have died right then and there and had no regrets, been happy he got to touch Tim.

“Kiss me,” Tim muttered when the kiss broke. “Kiss me.” He kept muttering every time a kiss would break. He pleaded. He chanted. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.”

“I’ll kiss you forever,” Jason muttered back. He littered kisses down Tim’s neck and across his cheeks and up his nose and on the dips of his temples and Tim’s lips.

And Jason woke up alone in his bed. He was panting so hard, sweating so much, and so hard he wanted to die. He wanted to burry himself in shame and die.

~ ~ ~

Tim still wasn’t talking to anyone. It had been weeks. Weeks! Jason had been posted up outside his bedroom every day for weeks and hadn’t even seen the boy! Of course, once he was relieved by the night guard, Tim was willing to part with his bed for an hour or two and let his sister coerce him into eating something. Jason only knew this because he read the reports in the morning. It made him more angry and upset than he was willing to let on. But he continued on.

Sat on the stool outside. Counted the hours until the end of his shift. Listened to pittering of steps outside his door that would quickly vanish and return a couple hours later. Went to sleep. Repeat.

Halfway through the third week, the night guy called in sick, which was weird but Jason said he didn’t mind the extra shift and brewed a big pot of coffee.

Of course, no one had told Tim. So at 11, the door creaked open and Tim expected to see Hugh, the stout blonde man who told dry knock-knock jokes, but instead saw Jason, the last person he wanted to see in the entire world.

His eyes blew wide and he slammed the door, feeling his heartbeat quicken.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Jason grumbled before banging a fist on the door. “Ok Tim, this had gone on long enough. Time to talk.”

Tim couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t answer. He stayed pressed up against the door and covered his ears so he couldn’t hear Jason’s voice.

“Tim?” Jason growled, jiggling the doorknob.

Tim didn’t really know what else to do so he crawled away from the door and let Jason tumble into the room.

“Thank you!” Jason huffed, straightening himself out and letting his eyes fall to Tim’s postion on the floor. “Uh.”

“Go get Cassie,” Tim said, his own voice sounding foreign.

“No, I’m not leaving you alone,” Jason declared, sitting in front of Tim.

“Stop,” Tim said. “Go get Cassie.”

“Tim you’ve gotta calm down first. You’re gonna make yourself pass out,” Jason said, as soothing as he could manage.

Tim took a few deep breaths but his ears started ringing.

“GO GET CASSIE!” Tim screamed, covering his ears again and trying his best to catch his breath.

Jason placed his hands on Tim’s wrists. Tim jumped, but Jason kept his grip. He let Jason take his hands away from his ears.

“Listen to my voice, Tim,” Jason whispered. Tim kept his eyes glued to Jason. He nodded his head. “Good. Now we’re gonna … uh … oh! Tell me five things you see.”

“Seriously,” Tim chuckled, starting to feel like he was coming back to himself a little.

“That’s what you’re supposed to do right? Grounding.”

Tim shook his head, but felt the panic rising in his chest again, so he darted his eyes around the room.

“Uh, I see,” Tim squeezed his eyes shut for a second and gulped down a gasping breath before opening them again. “I see my bed, the drapes—”

“Colors too, be descriptive,” Jason said.

“Uh … I see my gray bedsheets? The green drapes. A photograph of my family at the beach. A pile of … gray? I think they’re gray. Sure. Gray sweatpants. And … I see my white sneakers.”

“Good, now four things you hear,” Jason prompted.

“The toilet. The toilet is hissing,” Tim said, letting his breath catch a little. Jason squeezed his hand and they both waited for Tim’s breath to even out. “The rain. It’s raining. I can hear it hitting the windows. The wind too. And … one more. One more, one more … uh, I can hear someone walking in the hallway.”

“Good, three things you can touch?”

“Uh,” Tim blushed, “I can feel your hands. They’re kinda soft.”

Jason pulled his hands away and put them awkwardly on his lap.

“Uh, two more,” he pushed, letting their eyes lock again.

“Right,” Tim said, his voice cracking. “I have an itch, like right behind me ear.” He scratches his head and smiles a little. “Sorry. One more. I can feel … my heart. It’s still beating kinda fast. Not as fast as before, but I can still feel it.”

“Alright, la-last one,” Jason said. “Two things you can taste.”

“My mouth, it kinda tastes like someone put a bunch of sawdust in it. And … smoke? I can smell it on you. I can taste it. I thought you said you’d quiet.”

“I said I’d _try_ ,” Jason corrected.

Tim chuckled again and realized he could catch his breath again.

“Thanks, Jason,” he said.

“Anytime kid. Still want me to get Cass?”

“No, that’s ok. I’m ok for now.”

“Cool … get something to eat then?”

Tim nodded and they went to the kitchen together.

Jason was hopeful. After that, he was pretty sure they could get past whatever funk they were in.


End file.
